


Hideout

by SweetSinger2010



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 19:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13577811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSinger2010/pseuds/SweetSinger2010
Summary: Zeb and new-to-the-Ghost Sabine cram themselves into a supply closet to escape Hera's wrath. Kanan's on his own.





	Hideout

Hideout

Sabine walked past the supply closet in the common room, and then she stopped, turned around, stood in front of the door. There was the unmistakable sound of someone shifting within. She hit the door panel, and the door slid open, revealing Zeb crammed inside. “Karking _hells_ ,” she swore incredulously. “How—”

_“Shh!”_ He yanked on her arm and pulled her inside, slamming the inside control panel.

“Zeb, let me _go!_ ” The space was too tiny, the air too warm, and Sabine too fresh from her…experiences with Ketsu and the Empire to handle being trapped. Her pulse spiked. _“Let me go.”_

“Listen,” the Lasat hissed. “You don’t wanna be out there right now.”

“I really _do_.” She lunged for the door.

He blocked her. “You really _don’t._ ”

“Zeb,” she said warningly. Her breaths turned rapid and shallow. “Let. Me. Out.”

_“Easy.”_ He clamped one of his giant hands on her shoulder. “Kanan and Hera just got back from that supply run and she is in a _mood._ Seen it before. Getting caught out there now will mean getting saddled with some kind of horrible chore for the rest of the day, and _trust me_ : Hera’s chores are no joke.”

Sabine clenched and unclenched her jaw, trying to calm herself down. She wanted to become collateral damage to Hera’s wrath just about as much as she wanted to be stuck in this tiny space with Zeb. “So now what?”

“Now,” Zeb grunted, shifting his weight, “we wait for it to blow over.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

He shrugged, shoulders scraping the walls of the closet. “Welcome aboard, kid.”

Sabine huffed a sigh. “I do _not_ —”

_“Quiet!”_

Sabine turned—as much as she was able—to glare at him, but then she heard what he must have: two sets of aggravated footfalls circling in the common room.

“Will you _please_ let it go?” Kanan sounded like he was on the edge of impatience.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Judging by the sound of it, Hera stopped, turning sharply. It wasn’t hard to imagine that her eyes were full of pure fire. “Were you talking to _me?_ Or to that cheap, Pantoran sl—”

_“For the last time,”_ Kanan interrupted hotly, _“I was not **flirting** with—”_

“You can do whatever you want, Kanan.” Her voice was dangerously quiet and Sabine knew that the alternative meaning of her sentence was: You most certainly _cannot_ do whatever you want.

“Hera—”

 “You’re a grown man. I don’t care.” She stalked off then, no doubt headed toward the cockpit.

“Hera, come _on!_ ” Kanan took a few steps, but was apparently wise enough not to follow her. He grumbled, spewing a few curses, and started to walk toward the galley. He passed by the supply closet and Sabine and Zeb glanced at each other. They froze, holding a collective breath.

They listened to Kanan’s footsteps. He walked right on by, then he stopped, backtracked.

“Karabast,” Zeb whispered.

The door flew open and Kanan just stared at them for a second before he started calculating whether he could fit in there, too—Sabine could see it in his eyes.

_“No,”_ she and Zeb said in unison.

“You’re on your own, chief,” Zeb said unsympathetically.

“You two—” He froze as they all heard Hera coming back down the hallway. “It’s too late for me,” he whispered, eyes darting. “Save yourselves.”

Sabine touched two fingers to her forehead in a mock-salute and hit the door panel not a moment too soon.

“Where are Sabine and Zeb?” The irate Twi’lek snapped. “Did we not decide to expand our crew for a reason?”

“I don’t know,” Kanan hedged. “But listen, Hera.” He stepped away from the closet door, to Sabine’s relief.

“No.”

“Hera.” His voice was softer now and Hera shifted her weight, but didn’t walk away. “Come on—did you really think I was flirting with that woman?”

“Yes.”

There was a long silence before Kanan said, “You know I haven’t looked at anyone else since the day I met you.”

There was no reply.

“What would it take to convince you?” His tone of voice was unmistakable and so was hers.

“I could think of a few things.”

Sabine gasped in horror, elbowing Zeb in the ribs. “If they start making out and we’re stuck in here, _I’m going to kill you._ ”

“I don’t _think_ they will,” he stammered. “Just—quiet, quiet.”

They listened intently and heard not the sounds of a romantic interlude, but of Hera giving Kanan a list of things to do around the ship.

“Thank _gods_ ,” Sabine breathed. She pressed her cheek against the door, savoring how cool the metal felt against her skin. “Is it always like this?”

“Nah.” Zeb shrugged. “Almost never, actually. But anomalies like this are fun to watch, am I right?”

Sabine balked, wondering not for the first time what she was doing onboard the _Ghost._ Then she laughed. Hiding in a closet with a friend was far from the tightest spot she’d ever been in, and a welcome change. She stood silently, listening to Kanan try and protest Hera’s demands and considered herself pretty lucky to have found this…family, or whatever they were.


End file.
